[010] hold my hand

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TEN
hold my hand
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┌───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────┐TENhold my hand└───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────┘

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☆.。.:*  .。.:*☆

"BRADLEY... sweetheart, wake up..."

     The teenager is aware of a voice easing him to consciousness — and yet he isn't quite asleep yet. Bradley can't remember the last time he properly did that. When he peels his face from the edge of the bed, he becomes aware of dried saliva at the corners of his mouth. Too tired to feel embarrassed, he tries to wipe it away with the heel of his hand.

     He blinks the sleep away from his eyes and is reminded of the terrifying fact in front of him:

     Carole Bradshaw is dying.

     His mother has been lying in this hospital bed for nearly a whole month now. She used to be so radiant, bursting with energy and fun. It was something she strived to be, even when Goose had died. But now? Bradley feels as though he is just watching her fade like an old photograph — quieter as time goes by and shadows creep into her face... and yet, with her sleeping (almost) peacefully, Carole still wears the faintest of smiles.

     A gentle hand places itself on his shoulder, but he lurches so hard that he almost pulls a muscle. Bradley looks around aimlessly until he finds Wendy Sterling stood behind him. Her coat hangs over her other folded arm, looking down at him with a motherly gaze; she wants to be there for the boy, in a time where she knows he will imminently be parentless.

     "Hey..." Wendy whispers, stroking her thumb soothingly over his shoulder. "You've been here for hours, Bradley. Why don't you take a break?"

     He frowns at this. It feels like there's been a rotation of people telling him the exact same thing. Not even Maverick could coax the boy out of this room.

     Perhaps Wendy reads this, because she crouches down next to him in the chair, looking him in the eye so he can't tear away — it's intensely comforting. How do mothers do that? "Honey, you're exhausted," she says. "Why don't you take a little walk? Maybe it'll clear your head, I'll be right here with here, don't you worry..." Then, with a small smile, she adds, "Celeste's outside."

     Bradley perks up a little. All this time, he'd been scared of leaving this room, only to come back and find his mother left without him. But now he realises, suddenly, that Wendy is right — he has to get out of this room. Just for a few minutes.

     Once he's outside of the building, he feels like he's sleepwalking. Swallowing large gulps of fresh air fail to clear his head. His head, his heart became detached from his body a long time ago. Bradley walks aimlessly around the block, the hospital building never leaving his sight... and then she's there. Celeste is sat on a bench, her arms and legs tucked in close to herself; it makes her look like she's been swallowed by her souvenir hoodie from the Kennedy Space Centre.

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